I Wasn't Fooled
by Light-Eco-Sage
Summary: Sometimes, it seemed like he was the only person in the world who didn't think that Hercule Satan was the best thing that ever happened to martial arts. Sometimes it's hard being the only intelligent human in the world. Main character: The Tournament Announcer Guy. WARNING: THIS FIC IS NOT NICE TO HERCULE SATAN! If you like him, don't read!
1. The Announcer Knows

**I Wasn't Fooled**

**By: Light-Eco-Sage**

**Rated: Teen for violence and stupidity among most of the human characters.**

**Summary: Sometimes, it seemed like he was the only person in the world who didn't think that Hercule Satan was the best thing that ever happened to martial arts. Sometimes it's hard being the only intelligent human in the world.**

**Disclaimer: "Dragon Ball Z" is owned by Akira Toriyama, definitely not me. Otherwise Hercule Satan would have gotten his comeuppance.**

**LES: Well, here's my big return to the world of fanfiction! As my fans might have noticed, I've been... absent for quite a while now. The only explanation is that my muse must have gone on vacation... to Mars. I just couldn't get a good story idea to come no matter how hard I tried! But, finally this one came to me. So, here it is! There are a number of changes from the canon. The first one is that I'm going to speculate about the identity about a background character from the manga _Dragon Ball_. The second is that there is no "Gohan goes to high School" plot and, thus, no Saiyaman. I can hear the cheers all ready...**

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**Chapter 1: The Announcer Knows**

The job of an announcer is not an easy one. But this job has been particularly demanding since the final _good_ Strongest-Under-The-Heavens martial arts tournament.

I faked my excitement as Hercule Satan threw his opponent out of the ring and thus became the Champion of the tournament... again. I screamed the results in the microphone as if I didn't expect this to happen. As if I didn't know that Hercule hadn't paid his opponent to take a dive in the final match.

Yes, the state of martial arts these days were pretty abysmal.

Thankfully, I didn't have to continue faking my excitement for too long because no sooner had I finished the announcement did Hercule snatch the microphone out of my hand and begin hamming up the audience, who were practically screaming themselves catatonic at this point.

If there was only one good thing about Hercule winning, it was that I wasn't needed to keep the audience's attention. Hercule was the perfect rodeo clown in that regard. I could slip away from the idiot crowd without notice or care. In fact, I didn't even have to hide the fact as I ducked out of the ring and away from the insulting circus of a tournament.

I walked far enough away from the ring until the sound of the cheers died down, which meant I had to walk for quite a distance. But, finally, I found some peace and quiet around the memorial for old winners.

I sighed heavily as I gazed at the name of the last great Champion of the tournament. Son Goku had been the pinnacle of what a great martial artist was. Exceedingly powerful, but never arrogant. He never would have joined in with the farce that matches have become: ninety percent insulting each other, ten percent actual combat.

But, still, the announcer couldn't help but love and hate Son Goku at the same time. As much as Son Goku exemplified what martial arts were about, he also couldn't help but resent the fact that he had stopped coming to the tournaments... which in turn allowed Hercule Satan to take the top spot.

Hercule Satan becoming the tournament Champion had been the beginning of the end of true martial arts, because no sooner had he become the champion did he start a massive smear campaign against any and all martial artists who used ki to fight.

Most people didn't even understand why he hated ki use so much, but the announcer had his own ideas. He remembered the 22nd World's Martial Arts tournament and Son Goku's opponent in the first seed. Panpoot was considered a martial arts prodigy at the time, a winner of two world-class martial arts tournaments. He had entered the Strongest-Under-The-Heavens in order to gain the legendary Triple Crown victory. He was also arrogant, a show-off, and needlessly wasted his energy showing off. And, in the end, Goku had defeated him with a single blow.

After that, Panpoot disappeared and was never heard from again within martial arts circles. But when Hercule Satan showed up two tournaments later, the announcer knew that he was really Panpoot with a different name right away. He acted exactly the same and even had the same afro. He had obviously changed his name to distance himself from his embarrassing defeat at Goku's hands and, once he was Champion, wasted no time in vilifying him and his fellow fighters far and wide.

What shocked the announcer so much was how quickly people ate up his words. Just before the tournament, ki fighting was perfectly acceptable if not exceedingly difficult to master. Now the wisdom of a thousand years, the secret of mastering yourself both inside and out, was within days written off as a mere trick.

It soon became clear that exceptional martial artists would no longer be welcome at the tournament. The last ki-user had been viciously boo'ed off the stage because of his 'cheating'. After that, most of the real martial arts masters stayed away from the tournament. Not long after, they replaced the preliminary rounds with the punch machine, and that sealed the final nail in the coffin of all excitement the tournament had. No longer was the tournament about skill, but just brute force. It stopped being about martial arts and more about artless brawls. A majority of the people coming to fight were no more than street brawlers, thugs, and people who thought they were martial arts masters because they paid their way up to a black belt in a strip-mall dojo.

And every tournament just got worse and worse, more and more painful to watch.

Because the announcer loved martial arts. He couldn't really master it himself, although he did know a little, so he filled the void by watching the great masters face each other in the ring of combat and prove themselves equals in integrity.

After every tournament he considered quitting his job. As much as he loved martial arts, he could hardly bare to see it tortured like this. But he never did leave, and he doubted he ever would. Because he had never really lost hope that the _true_ Masters would return and show the world once again that martial arts wasn't just about brute force: it was about technique, being aware of how your body moves, and also gaining inner strength.

He just really wished that Goku would come back...

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**LES: There's the first chapter! We will pick up next chapter at the 25th Strongest-Under-The-Heavens tournament.**


	2. A Wish Come True Sort Of

**LES: From this point on, the story will be exclusively in Third Person. As you guys may have noticed in the first chapter, I have a lot of trouble writing in First Person and, most importantly, _staying_ in First Person. Stick with what works, eh?**

**Chapter II: A Wish Come True... Sort Of...**

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That morning seemed like the typical morning just before a major martial arts tournament: clear blue skies and perfect conditions for the spectators to watch the bouts between the contestants.

As per usual for the beginning of the Strongest-Under-The-Heavens tournament, the announcer was one of the first to arrive on the scene. But that didn't mean to say that the complex was empty. It was staffed year around by a group of warrior monks whose sole purpose seemed to be to take care of the ring. Besides the monks making the final preparations, there were a few early-comers, both spectators and hopefuls for the tournament.

The announcer made sure that his sunglasses were pushed against his eyes as he used the dark eye-wear as an excuse to critically eye the people that were assembled where the registration booth would be in about an hour. With a heavy sigh, he knew he shouldn't have let his hopes get up. Just the usual muscle-heads.

He walked past the posters that largely featured the face of Hercule Satan, and he worked to hide the frown on his face. The tournament hadn't even started, and he was all ready getting sick of that arrogant excuse for a martial artist. He was all ready predicting victory for himself without even knowing who he was to face. Of course, he could just bribe his opponents like last time.

_I'd probably give my entire paycheck for this event to the person who stands up to Hercule and wins the tournament._ The announcer thought to himself. They were out there, he knew they were out there. But Hercule had built up his reputation so much that people had come to think that he was absolutely invincible... especially since the Cell Games.

He stopped by a booth that was all ready selling some drinks and bought himself one. He ignored the beers and got a soda. After all, he did have a job to do, however unpleasant it might be.

Still, it was pleasant this early in the morning before a majority of the people arrived. Besides, it didn't get really crazy until Hercule arrived, and he always arrived late. So he sat in the shade, sipping his drink, and reminiscing about better times.

The complex began to fill up as the hours slowly passed. In fact, he was just about to get another refill on his drink when he saw something that almost made him spit the last of his soda out of his mouth.

_It couldn't be... Son Goku?!_

But, no, now that he was taking a closer look, it wasn't Son Goku. This man was far too young to be Son Goku, but the resemblance was absolutely remarkable. He was a young man, perhaps somewhere in the neighborhood of seventeen or eighteen years old. His ebony black hair was much shorter than Goku's wild mane of hair, with a lock of hair falling casually on his forehead. He was rather tall for a young man his age, but the height seemed to work for him. But it was really in the face where this young man looked just like Son Goku. He definitely had the same eyes, and the same smile.

It was only after the announcer stared at the young man for a few moments that he realized that he was standing near his family, and that was what really made him stand up and head their way. He knew that Son Goku had gotten engaged to Chi-Chi, the daughter of the Ox King during his final tournament, and the young man's mother was a dead-ringer for Chi-Chi. And if Chi-Chi hadn't changed much, he was absolutely shocked by the young boy hiding around her legs. He was about five or six years old, but he was the absolute spiting image of Son Goku. It was serious de ja vu, to say the least.

As he got closer he began to overhear their conversation. "Are you sure you want to do this, Gohan?" The woman who could only be Chi-Chi asked, smoothing down the front of her eldest son's gi with a motherly fashion.

"Mom, I'm sure. How hard could it be? I'll go in, win the tournament, and win the prize money for our family. Dad's old winnings can't last much longer, can they?"

"I wish I had never told you about that." Chi-Chi agonized. "You are too young to be worrying about the state of our family finances! You should be focused on your studies!"

"You know I haven't neglected my studies for the tournament." Gohan patiently explained. "I could ace any test a college could give me easily."

"It's true, Mommy!" The young Goku-look-alike spoke up, grinning at his older brother. "Gohan's _really_ smart!"

"Oh, you are, Gohan, you certainly are." Chi-Chi conceded. "But that's just why I don't approve of your fighting, you know. You have so much potential! I don't want to see you waste that potential on being a prize fighter all your life."

"I won't be a prize fighter all my life." Gohan assured her. "It's just one tournament. We'll get the prize money, and I'll be back to studying tomorrow. I promise."

Chi-Chi sighed. "Sometimes I think I might have taught you more than was good for you. Okay. Just, please, be careful."

"Of what?" Gohan laughed. "You've seen the videos of the last few tournaments just like I have. No one even knows how to use ki anymore. This will be an easy win."

It was at this point that the announcer gained the courage to approach the family. He approached in a way that he was definitely in the Chi-Chi's line of sight. "Excuse me?" He asked, and the family turned towards him. "Pardon the interruption, but you wouldn't happen to be the Son family, would you?"

At the sight of him, Chi-Chi's stern face turned into a smile. "Oh, I remember you! You're the announcer for the tournaments. And, yes, I am Son Chi-Chi, and these are my sons: Son Gohan and Son Goten." She gestured to each of her sons in turn.

"I knew it." The announcer said. "Forgive me for saying, but you both look so much like your father that I knew you had to be his sons."

The eldest, Gohan, gazed at the announcer with renewed interest. "You knew my father?"

"Of course! I was the announcer for every tournament your father participated in! Son Goku always was one of my favorite fighters to watch! Such speed and precision! Tell me, is Son Goku here? Is he going to participate? It's been far too long since a real challenge has come to this ring."

At his words, nearly all of the Son's faces fell and the announcer instantly knew that something was wrong. Little Son Goten confirmed what he was beginning to suspect. "My Daddy died years ago."

"Oh... I'm terribly sorry." The announcer said, and meant it too. "What a tragic loss. I know that he did more for the world than we ever knew."

"Yes, he did." Gohan agreed. "My father might not be here, but I am going to participate in this tournament. Hopefully I'll be able to fill the gap."

"Oh, how exciting! I'm always pleased to hear that the children of a champion is going to be participating. I'll bet that Son Goku taught you everything you know!"

"I was trained by many masters..." Gohan began to explain when he was suddenly cut off mid-sentence.

"Why are you going to let the son of a cheater enter the tournament?" A hard, female voice demanded.

The announcer set his jaw firmly, swallowing the words that he really wanted to say. It was Videl. Personally, the announcer didn't have anything against her. She was, over all, a good person and one of the few fighters who didn't screw around in the ring. She just had the misfortune of being Hercule Satan's daughter and the first to regurgitate Hercule's beliefs about ki. Videl was a much better person than her father. She had confidence in her strength but didn't waste time showing off or insulting her opponents. Under the proper training with an old master, she could have joined the elite ranks of a martial arts master. But she seemed content to hang out in her father's shadow, always claiming he was better than her.

The Son family, however, did not know Videl like the announcer did. Son Gohan just kind of stared at her in shock, as if he couldn't believe what he heard. Son Chi-Chi's mouth dropped open, and then she gasped, "Excuse me? What do you mean by 'son of a cheater'?"

"Exactly what I said." Videl said, crossing her arms over her chest as she glared at the older woman. She was, perhaps, Gohan's age, but shorter than the average girl her age. Or perhaps she just looked really small next to Gohan. She wore her dark hair in pigtails, and wore an over-sized white shirt and black biker shorts. "My dad told me all about those light tricks that Son Goku used to use during the tournaments. Anyone who has to resort to such trickery cannot possibly win in an actual martial arts tournament."

The Son's seemed absolutely flabbergasted. Even Chi-Chi had lost any amount of anger she had for the girl. Of course, it was replaced with pity, which was probably worse for the Satan girl to see rather than anger. "Light trick?" Son Goten asked, confused. "Does she mean ki, big brother?"

"I guess so." Gohan replied, before turning back to Videl with a look of concern on his face. "Do you really not know what ki is?"

"I don't know what this 'ki' stuff is, but I know that those light beams and explosions are just a trick. A word of advice: back out of the tournament now before you embarrass yourself." She said, and with that she walked away.

When she was gone, Chi-Chi said, "It's worse than I thought!"

"I know what you mean." Gohan said, shaking his head. "I knew that people were not using ki in the tournaments any longer. But I just thought it was because they didn't know how. I had no idea that didn't know what ki was at all!"

"Sadly, it's been this way since Hercule Satan won the tournament after your father." The announcer told Gohan. "Hercule Satan fancies himself the best martial artist in the world, and if anyone uses a technique that he doesn't understand, he immediately denounces it as a trick. He certainly doesn't understand the use of ki at all. As for her... she can't really help having those views. She is Hercule Satan's daughter, after all."

"Oh, I see." Gohan said, looking in the direction that she had left.

"And, speaking of Hercule, since you are competing you should know..." The announcer began, placing a hand of Gohan's shoulder.

"What is it?" Gohan asked.

"The last person who tried to use ki was boo'ed off the stage and disqualified for cheating. So, as much as it pains me to say it, do you think you can fight without using any ki attacks or flying techniques?"

Gohan nodded. "It's been a long time, but I can certainly manage to fight at the normal human level."

"Well... maybe you can fight at slightly above the normal human level." The announcer commented. "I'd really like to see Hercule Satan brought down and the true form of martial arts restored."

"Will do!" Gohan said cheerfully, heading off to get registered.

Well, the announcer had been waiting for years to restore martial arts to the way they should be. But now that things were on the right track with the introduction of Son Gohan into the tournament, he knew he could be patient. It would be years before competitive martial arts was fixed from the stain that Hercule Satan made on it, but it would get there soon.

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**LES: Oh, and by the way... as I said last chapter, it has been a LONG time since I wrote fanfiction... or anything, really. I'm sure to have gotten rusty in that time. So don't feel bad about reminding me of my mistakes, even if you think I might know about the 'rule'. I'm trying my hardest to keep things up to the usual standard at least, but you never know.**


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